


A Wild Dedication of Yourselves, To Unpathed Waters, Undreamed Shores

by chaotic_scrittore1317



Series: Children (Warriors) With Blood On Their Hands [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angry Katara (Avatar), Angst, Badass Katara (Avatar), Badass Sokka (Avatar), Big Brother Sokka (Avatar), Blood and Injury, Dark, Dark Character, Dark Katara (Avatar), Dark Sokka, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Katara (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Katara (Avatar)-centric, Murder, Protective Sokka (Avatar), Stubborn Katara (Avatar), Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotic_scrittore1317/pseuds/chaotic_scrittore1317
Summary: "The Southern Wolf, they called them, and the Abyss Witch. Very pompous names for them, who were still only children.They arose out of the mist, took lives and departed as quickly as they had come, leaving behind waves of blood and only one man, to testify and spread their legend."Katara and Sokka were old enough to know the harsh realities of war, but young and foolish enough to think that fate was not so cruel as to make them suffer again. When they were struck by a new tragedy, and found themselves alone, lost in the turmoil of war, they had no choice but to do anything to survive.And to have their revenge.
Relationships: Bato & Hakoda & Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Hakoda & Katara (Avatar), Katara & La (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Yue (Avatar)
Series: Children (Warriors) With Blood On Their Hands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993552
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40





	1. we must be killers, children of the wild ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya everybody ! This a Dark! Katara and Dark! Sokka story, with some hints of evilness. It will contain torture, murder and some very dark thoughts/psychological hurt. It's part of my series "Children (Warriors) with blood in their hand), however you don't have to have read the first story to understand this one, "Looks like an innocent flower" just relate some events referenced here (this story will also be longer). I hope you enjoy your read!

For as long as Katara could remember, the anger had always been there. 

Like a second heart, beating in her chest. Sometimes it would diminish, and almost disappear, but it kept coming back, always stronger. 

Anger against the whole world, against her people, who were not strong enough, against her mother, for having abandoned her, against her father, for having gone to war. 

But above all, more than anything, against the Fire Nation, and against the Fire Lord, this grotesque monster of which adults only spoke in low voices. Katara hated him, more than anything in the world. 

Her anger was such that it seemed to ignite, burn in her chest, and make her want to scream. Her grandmother used to say, with a cold glint in her eyes, that maybe the world had started in flames, but it would end in ice. 

Katara hated fire, hated the ashes that fell from the sky when fire nation soldiers raided their villages to steal their supplies and beat up their men, just to rob them of all hope. But ice, _oh, she knew ice._

The murderous ice that stretched within sight in the South Pole. The ice that sprang up under her fingers when the anger was too strong. The ice on which Sokka ran, hair blowing in the wind and weapon in hand, when he hunted the predators that would be their dinner. The ice, finally, surrounded by the ocean, La, which was supposed to protect them, but had brought them war. 

Anger and war went hand in hand, in Katara's heart. The war had taken their mother from Sokka and her, who had given her life to save her. It had taken their father from them, who had gone to battle too early. It had taken their grandmother, the last member of their family left to them, on a full moon night. 

Katara still remembered their hut, barely lit by a ray of moonlight entering through the open door, on whose steps a fire soldier stood, a dagger in his hand. Her grandmother was facing him, straight and proud, and, as he took what Sokka had hunted that day, she had thrown the phrase she used to repeat to Katara, when the anger threatened to spill over.

_The world may have started in flames, but it would end in ice._

The soldier forced her on her knees and spat in her face.

He called her old and weak, but Grandma remained stoic, only increasing his anger.

He hit her once, twice, in the jaw. When he brandished his dagger at her, Katara leaped out of the corner she was hiding in. Sokka tried to hold her back, a hand clasped to her mouth to keep her from screaming, but she escaped his grip and rushed at the soldier.

The blade sliced through the air and sank into her grandmother's stomach, who collapsed. Katara had howled, a long, piercing sound, like a wounded wolf calling for its pack under a full moon. The tears rolling down her cheeks suddenly seemed colder, and she felt stronger.

She wiped them away with a swift gesture, and in her hands they became long spikes of ice, aimed at the soldier. They sunk into his chest like arrows shot with force, and he collapsed to the ground, just like Gran Gran had.

She would have remained there, stoic, watching his blood spill on the hut floor, if Sokka hadn't grabbed her by the hand and dragged her outside.

They fled into the night, under Tui's benevolent gaze, two shadows sliding into a boat and disappearing into La's arms before anyone saw them. Katara knew the price to pay when killing a Fire Nation soldier. She had seen the burnt corpses of those who had tried, in a neighboring village. And those killed were warriors, trained for combat. Sokka and Katara were only children.

They sailed aimlessly through the black waters, fishing and stopping where they could to hunt, always in secret, always when no one could see them.

They stumbled upon the first Fire Nation ship by accident. It arose from the horizon too late for them to flee, and accosted them.

Anger resurfaced in Katara's chest when she had jumped onto the metal deck, among the faceless soldiers, and she could feel it in Sokka too.

They fought tooth and nail, determined to survive at all costs.

When they returned on their small wind-blown boat, they left corpses and a slowly sinking battleship behind.

They had learned slowly, then. Katara had meditated and let herself be rocked gently by the waves, sitting cross-legged on the deck of the boat, while Sokka fished, hanging barefoot to the hull, a spear and a net in his hands.

She had learned on full moon nights, when she felt stronger than the ocean, and the waves obeyed all of her commands. Sokka had taught her hunting techniques, which surprisingly worked for waterbending. He had taught himself how to fight every time they encountered a Fire Nation ship, because dodging and retaliating quickly became a habit, when one had to tirelessly fight for his life.

She had learned, when, after a fight with a firebender who had left her with burnt hands, she had plunged them into the icy water of the ocean and they had come out healed, if not for scars that she wore with pride.

They had huddled together during storms where their little boat was tossed around, and on days so cold it seemed their toes were going to drop, and they had learned how to survive, because it was the only thing to do.

They had ended up fighting the Fire Nation ships less and less when they stumbled upon them, and more and more hunting them down and attacking them on purpose.

Slowly, they built a reputation for themselves, especially when Sokka began to wear their tribe's traditional war paint in combat.

Rumors started to circulate about them, and now the soldiers whispered their names when they attacked them.

The Southern Wolf, they called them, and the Abyss Witch.

Very pompous names for them, who were still only children.

They arose out of the mist, took lives and departed as quickly as they had come, leaving behind waves of blood and only one man, to testify and spread their legend. It was Sokka who had the idea.

Then the news arrived. When they had attacked a battleship, the captain had fallen to his knees, his neck exposed in submission. He and his men surrendered unconditionally. Fire Lord Ozai, the man Katara hated with all of her being, was dead. And the new reigning Fire Lord wanted to end the war.

Katara and Sokka had exchanged a dark look. How ironic fate was. 

They left without taking a life, for once, leaving the soldiers intact, but taking their weapons and their provisions. The Fire Nation had already taken so much from them. It was just an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

They could have gone home, back to their village and their empty hut. But after having waged war so much that it had become part of them, how could they stop ?

Like predators, they continued the hunt. But now with a new target.

The Fire Nation soldiers could not have found their way on the Pole Seas on their own. They could not have found the villages, carefully hidden from the eyes of the world, on their own, they could not have known who were the water benders on their own. They could not have known on their own which children to kill to be sure that all the waterbenders would be eradicated. The water tribes were too secretive, too closed, for them to know those things alone.

People, Water Tribesmen, had helped them.

And so Katara and Sokka continued their quest for revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was kinda short, but the rest is coming very soon  
> Please leave kudos and comments, it warms my cold dead heart


	2. the price of your greed is your son and your daughter, what're you gonna do when there's blood in the water ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter two !  
> I saw someone talk on Twitter about how sick it would be if Katara had kept her scars on her hands after Aang burned her and I was like hummmm I need to use that  
> I was also inspired by this incredible fanart :  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CGc6D_Xg-hl/?igshid=1srdnu7i2jcj4  
> By @faiebae on Instagram, go check it out !

They had sailed along the coasts, stopping here and there to look for them, slipping into the ports, their faces hidden by the hoods of their anoraks, and listening to rumors and confidences as alcohol untied tongues.

Then they found them, entered the villages in a cloud of mist and slit their throats, staining the snow with their blood.

The other inhabitants holed up in their huts, spying on them, praying that they would not come for them. But they didn't have to worry. Katara and Sokka did not harm the innocents.

Tui watched, motherly, over them, as Sokka's sharp bone sword sliced through the flesh and splashed red on the ice, as Katara froze the blood and drowned with a wave of her hand those who had dared collaborate, those who had dared betray their own.

The traitors had started to run away from them, to hide like rats, but they found them easily.

When they found themselves on their knees, Sokka's blade against their throats, they no longer had any qualms about revealing the hiding place of their former friends, in the hope of saving their miserable lives, and secrets flowed from their mouths with the blood.

Little by little, messages started to arrive, left for the Southern Wolf and the Abyss Witch in the ports, denouncing the collaborators, but not only. Rapists, too, killers, abusive spouses and parents. Anyone who, even unrelated to the Fire Nation, had done harm.

Their reputation had grown, so much so that appeals for help had started to come from afar. They had crossed the oceans to the Northern Water Tribe, and they had begun to dispense justice in the villages left behind by the capital, easily finding traitors. Maybe too easily, sometimes.

The trail of bodies they left behind them had ended up disturbing some, and the leader of the Northern Water Tribe, Chief Arnook, had finally intervened.

They were in a small village far from the capital, busy eliminating one of the last traitors they had found. The man was on his knees, Sokka's blade resting against his neck, as Katara crouched down to look him in the eyes. Behind the man, his wife was holding a young boy, barely into adolescence, whose cheeks were stained with tears.

Katara asked calmly:

\- This is your last chance to tell me where your accomplices are hidden. I might spare your life if you admit your betrayal and confess where they are.

The man spat, his face already stained with blood:

\- I have no more accomplices, witch. You killed them all.

His voice broke a bit at the end of his sentence. Katara shrugged.

\- Too bad.

She straightened up and nodded at Sokka, who raised his blade slightly, preparing to strike.

The bottom of his war paint, which gave his face a lupine look, was splattered with blood, and Katara could see the thin scar that ran down his temple and cheek, which he had won in one of his first fights against Fire Nation soldiers.

She herself wore the dark blue anorak she favored for combat, cut from a warm, precious fabric, and embroidered with La's symbols. Her mother's necklace was neatly tied around her neck. She had removed her gloves, and her burnt-streaked hands were exposed to the cold North Pole air.

Before Sokka had time to slit his throat, the man they had come to kill called out, panicking :

\- Wait ! Why are you doing this ? Why are you attacking your people ? They say you don't go after the innocent. My son is innocent ! If you kill me, he will lose his father, he will lose his honor !

The young boy flinched when the man mentioned his son.

Katara smiled coldly as she looked down at the man. Before she had time to respond, Sokka's voice had echoed across the frozen tundra, deep and icy.

\- I, too, was innocent before. I was a son, I had honor. But the Fire Nation took everything from me, because of traitors like you.

The man's voice broke as he pleaded:

\- Please ! Please have mercy !

His screams echoed pathetically in the ice floe, and Katara looked at him contemptuously.

\- I have no mercy for rats.

Then she fixed her gaze on the young boy and ordered:

\- Hide your eyes.

Sokka slid his sword sharply against the man's throat to silence the screams, and his head rolled to the ground at Katara's feet.

As they left the village, their dark mission accomplished, boats appeared on the horizon.

Katara and Sokka exchanged a worried look, and Sokka unsheathed his boomerang. They ran to their boat and Sokka's boomerang sliced through the air to sever the moorings and returned to its owner.

Standing on the bridge, Katara raised her arms, and the water obeyed her command. The boat slowly pulled away from the pack ice, and split the waves out to sea.

They had to reach the ocean as quickly as possible. _Ice was their friend, but the Ocean was their father, just as the Moon was their mother._

The waves moved aside in their path as they raced across the water, guided by the powers of Katara, and Sokka, who was adjusting the sails to follow the wind.

However, the boats did not seem to want to be left behind, and followed closely behind. Katara sent a wave towards them to slow them down, and frowned as she felt the water resist her slightly.

She turned around, and saw, at the bows of the boats, which were without doubt Water Tribe, waterbenders, dressed in the uniform of the North Tribe, their foreheads adorned with their battle marks.

She gritted her teeth, and, like a bad omen, the sky above them started to cover with dark clouds. A storm and a grandiose fight were in prospect.

They thus continued their frantic race on the waves, without succeeding in outrunning the Northern waterbenders, until Sokka, at the helm, abruptly made the boat turn around to face their pursuers. He drew his sword and gave Katara a carnivorous smile.

\- May Tui be with you, sister.

She answered him with the same smile.

\- And may La be with you, brother.

_The world may have started in flames, but it would end in ice._

Spikes of ice immediately cut the air, hurled towards them at full speed, and Katara sent them back with a wave of her hand. Sokka's boomerang whirled in the air, and they launched into the assault.

In the chaos of the fight, Katara quickly lost sight of Sokka. The rain had begun to fall, transformed into hail by the waterbenders, in addition to the thunder and lightning that was already tearing the sky apart. Her hair had come loose, and flew into her face with each gust of wind.

Inside, Katara was enraged at having to fight against waterbenders. They should have come to her side, they should have fallen to their knees and begged her to teach them everything she knew.

So she had projected her anger into the fight, and dismissed all attacks, ice daggers and torrents of water. She saw Sokka several times, who was also fighting like a demon. He was covered in blood, but appeared to be unharmed, and bodies were falling around him.

She had finally found herself surrounded by waterbenders on the deck of one of the boats, attacked from all sides.

Letting out a cry of rage, she raised her arms to the sky and, while gathering the water around her, she called Tui and La, begging them to intervene. A monstrous wave formed on the side of the boat, growing with every second.

Katara pushed it forward with all her might, and the wave fell onto the boat. At the last moment, some waterbenders raised their arms, causing it to sway a little.

The wave crashed into the boat, sweeping away everything on the deck in its path and taking combatants and debris with it.

Katara, whom the water avoided as it passed around her, smiled wildly.

But her smile faded as the wave passed over the place where Sokka had been seconds before, now deserted. She rushed to the edge of the boat and barely had time to see him, carried away by the wave and reaching out to her, before he disappeared under the water.

She screamed his name through the storm.

\- SOKKA !

Frantically, she probed the water, trying to sense him and bring him back to the surface. She did not encounter anything. Her heart started to beat faster, and the anger changed to fear.

Where was he ?!

She searched for him for what seemed like hours, oblivious to the waterbenders who were slowly coming back to the boat and approaching her from behind.

In a low voice, she whispered prayers to Tui and La, begging them not to take her brother from her yet.

Eventually, she gave up all hope, and collapsed to the ground, calling for her brother in a broken voice.

She felt like she had a hollow in her chest, where her heart should have been.

She let out a wounded-animal moan, her long, dark wet hair falling around her face and mingling with her tears.

She hadn't even struggled as they handcuffed her and took her to another boat, bound for Agna Qel'a, the North Pole capital.

Katara had no more hope, no more will to live and fight.

Sokka was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is how things start getting dark (;  
> Please tell me your thoughts, and the rest is coming soon !


	3. o children, forgive us now for what we've done, it started out as a bit of fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is chapter 3 ! I know those chapters are really short, compared to the first work of this series, so I try to post more often, and the story will be longer :)

Katara felt like she was floating in a fog that dampened her senses and cut her off from the outside world.

Chained, she didn't even reacted when they made her get off the boat, when, surrounded by warriors, she crossed the crowd of Northern tribesmen who had come to observe her arrival. They whispered her nickname, the Abyss Witch, and the wind carried their fearful voices, but she showed no sign of hearing them.

Her blank gaze passed over the gigantic city, over the great ice buildings, over the canals and over the palace, and she thought to herself that Sokka would have asked a thousand questions when seeing it. He would have asked how the buildings did not melt, how the canals worked, why the young girl, who stood next to the man who had to be Chief Arnook, had hair as white as polar bear fur. Imagining her brother beside her, Katara felt something break inside her.

Her face, which had remained an emotionless mask since she had been captured, showed nothing, but tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to gasp and scream again, wanted to destroy everything just for her brother to come back, but she didn't even have the energy anymore.

She barely heard what the Chief was saying, staring blankly at the floor. They forced her to her knees, bustled around her, but everything was like suffocated by cotton wool.

She didn't listen during her trial, as they listed her crimes, she didn't listen to the verdict, and let them drag her out of the building where she had been tried. As she was escorted past the palace, she emerged from her trance for the first time.

Before the eyes of the crowd, some of whom had faces contorted with hatred, she fell to her knees and brought her fists to her chest. Looking up at the Moon, which was slowly rising on the horizon, she prayed for her brother's soul, begging Tui and La not to judge him too harshly and to let him find peace.

Desperate, she implored their mercy, asked them to take her in Sokka's place and let him live, or at least end her life too, as she had no purpose without her brother. Her guards forced her to stand but she struggled and continued to pray, until the Moon disappeared from her sight and she was taken to the prison.

So Katara fell back into her trance, her face empty of all emotion, like one of the tissue dolls she had when she was still living at the South Pole, in her tribe.

They undressed her, taking anything that could have allowed her to escape. She had let them do it, and only reacted when they tried to take her mother's necklace. She raised her head, her gaze fiery, and bared her teeth, like a wounded wolf. The hands that were trying to untie the ribbon were instantly gone, and they left her alone.

They locked her in a cell deep into the prison, far from the other prisoners, who had watched her pass with a curious and, for those who had recognized her, worried look.

Once in the semi-darkness of the cell they had thrown her into, she curled up on the floor and closed her eyes, praying that Tui and La would answer her wishes and let her die. She stayed that way for weeks, slowly allowing herself to wither away. The days and nights mixed together, until she lost all track of time.

She stopped eating, spending her time oscillating between consciousness and slumber, in a semi-sleep that attenuated everything. Whenever she regained enough strength to think clearly, she remembered what had happened, and she saw Sokka's smiling face behind her closed eyelids. She then had the impression that a knife was repeatedly stuck in her stomach.

The sleep was no better: she had nightmares where Sokka's corpse, which no longer had anything human, bloated by the time spent in the water and covered with dried blood, called her gently and held out his hands with missing fingers towards her. When she didn't answer his voice twisted and grew deep and loud, inhuman, and he accused her of having abandoned him, of having killed him.

She knew she could have escaped the prison. It would have been almost child's play. They brought her food and forced her to eat and drink when she was in her semi-consciousness. It would have been enough for her to just feign sleep and attack them then.

She could also have just used her tears, like she had done the night Grandma died, but somehow she couldn't cry anymore. As a last resort, she could have waited for the full moon, which she felt without seeing it some nights, and used the mysterious skill that came to her then. While training with Sokka, and fighting on nights when Tui was whole, she had noticed that she sensed things that she shouldn't have felt.

Heartbeats, movements she could see, even without her eyes. She knew there was water everywhere, even in the blood she once made flow so easily. She could have escaped that way, too, but she just didn't want to.

 _What was the point_ , Katara told herself _? Who could she join, outside ? She had nothing left, no one. She was nothing._

On the colder nights, she brooded over those dark thoughts, curled up in a ball with her fingers clenched against the icy stone of her mother's necklace. She sang softly in a broken voice the tales that her father had taught them, to her and to Sokka, when they were little, songs that spoke of icy tundras, of hunters who could turn into wolves, of cursed young girls with a fishtail, and tragic love stories.

She knew she was slowly going mad, but nothing mattered anymore.

One night, instead of dreaming about Sokka's corpse, as usual, she dreamed of a time when anger was not yet an integral part of her life, when her mother was still alive and when war was only a distant threat. She was playing with Sokka in the snow, and he had thrown a snowball in her face, laughing. She had collapsed on her back, giggling like crazy, and drawn a silhouette in the snow, waving her arms and legs.

Sokka had dropped down beside her to imitate her, his laughter echoing through the village like an omen of joy, as large fluffy white snowflakes had began to fall from the light blue sky.

Katara felt like her heart was going to overflow with joy, and she told herself that dying there wouldn't be a bad thing. She woke up gently for once, hot tears running down her cheeks. She closed her eyes as the last bits of joy from her dream faded. Oh, how she missed Sokka. She was in so much pain.

Then, voices echoed through the prison, and she didn't raise her head, accustomed to sometimes hearing the guards making their rounds in the section reserved for less dangerous prisoners. But the voices came closer, until they stopped in front of her cell. A key turned in the lock, and someone opened the door.

Katara recognized on the doorstep some of the prison guards, and Chief Arnook. And between them...

She saw him, and immediately tried to stand up, but her legs were too weak to carry her. She parted her chapped lips, trying to make a sound to convince herself that she still wasn't dreaming. Eventually, she managed to get up and stagger over to him, the chains on her wrists and ankles rattling softly.

He had a look of desperation in his thin eyes, which shone like he was about to cry. Her legs gave way under her and he caught her before she collapsed. Katara buried her face in the chest of Bato, the man who had partly raised her, her almost father, and felt at home.

Maybe after all Tui and La had heard her prayers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a cliffhanger!  
> as usual, please leave kudos and feedbacks <3


	4. visions I vandalize, cold in my kingdom size, fell for these ocean eyes

Bato and Katara had settled in a little ice house, a little out of town. The walls and floor were covered with furs, traditional masks from their tribe decorated the large room, and most of the time, a good smell of stewed sea plums hung in the air.

The first month, Katara didn't have enough strength, physical and mental, to stand up, and spent most of her time in her fur bed. Bato took care of her, spooning her feed and stroking her hair when she vomited her meal or cried in his arms after a nightmare.

He hadn't asked any questions, had never mentioned Sokka or what she had done, and Katara was infinitely grateful to him. He was content to take care of her, and would go away from time to time to speak with Chief Arnook about the collaboration between the Northern and Southern Water Tribes. After spending so much time in the dark hut, staring at the ceiling, that she felt like she was going to be sick if she didn't see the Moon and the Ocean, Katara crawled outside, wrapped in an oversized anorak that belonged to Bato.

She sat in the snow on the coast and watched the waves come and go until the image of water was imprinted behind her closed eyelids, thinking of her brother.

After that, she ventured into the capital of the Northern Water Tribe. She didn't speak to anyone, only buying supplies and fetching water for her and Bato. The whispers and scared looks followed her as she passed, but she ignored them.

She was no more than the shadow of the "Abyss Witch". She had dark circles under her eyes, from the nightmares she still had, her clothes hung over her thin body, and she was weak, weaker than she had ever been.

But at least she could go wherever she wanted, and there were no more chains on her wrists and ankles.

Some days, she would drop to her knees in the healing hut, and listen to the lessons an old waterbender was giving to a dozen little girls. Then she traced graceful movements over mannequins with human chi paths carved into them, and she practiced.

She wasn't using her waterbending anymore, except for that. She knew she could have helped with it, she could have worked on the construction sites rebuilding the war-destroyed ice buildings and thus earn her redemption, but she just couldn't do it.

Every time she tried, she was brought back to the ship, attacked from all sides, raising the gigantic wave that would take her brother away.

At least, when she healed, she felt useful, she created, she repaired, the opposite of what she used to do before, when she hunted Fire Nation soldiers and traitors and stained the snow with blood.

And children, unlike adults, did not avoid her. Oh, they were also scared, but their curiosity exceeded their fear. One little girl in particular, Anjij, watched her with big blue eyes as she practiced healing, and looked away with that shyness so peculiar to children whenever Katara caught her staring at her. It was Anjij who burst into the hut one morning when Bato was not there. 

Katara was doing the dishes, her hands dipped in the soapy water, and immediately looked up when Anjij appeared at the door, out of breath. They exchanged a look, and the little girl uttered a sentence that immediately made Katara stand up.

Wiping her hands on her skirt, she ran out into the early morning cold and through town, so fast that her feet no longer seemed to touch the ground. Fists clenched on her skirt to lift it up, she became one with the wind, racing towards the palace. 

When she got there, people were crowding around the large fountains. The crowd parted to let her pass, like waves splitting not to touch her. She immediately recognized the soldiers of the Southern Water Tribe, some of whom widened their eyes when they saw her. She stopped running, and let her skirt fall around her ankles. On the steps of the palace, Bato saw her and gave her a big, bright smile. Beside him, Chief Arnook was chatting with a tall man, with dark hair pulled back in a warrior's wolf tail.

He was wearing a sleeveless tunic, despite the cold, and on his muscular arms were the traditional tattoos of the Southern Water Tribe. Tattoos Katara knew by heart, having traced them with her fingertips thousands of times, when she was still young and innocent, with no blood on her hands.

The man turned, and Katara met his blue gaze, the same bright blue as Sokka's. Silence fell in front of the palace, and her father's whisper echoed like a cry.

\- Katara.

She took a few steps towards him, and like in a dream, he imitated her, going faster and faster with each step.

He finally ran up to her and caught her all of a sudden. He whirled her around in the air several times, hugging her tightly. Then he put her down, took a step back to look at her, and repeated:

\- Katara.

He had wrinkles at the corners of his eyes from his smile, and they were shining with happiness. Katara felt something break inside her. And for the first time since she had accepted that her brother was dead, she started to cry. The tears didn't want to stop rolling down her cheeks, as if a dam had opened in her. She whispered back:

\- Dad.

Her father wouldn't let go of her afterwards, always keeping a hand on her arm as if to make sure she was real. Katara could only imagine how he must have felt, returning from the war to find his house empty and cold, his mother dead and his children missing. She remembered the way he had collapsed when their mother died, and his blank gaze and crying echoing around the house late, accompanied by the reassuring whispers of Bato, when they thought she and Sokka were asleep.

She wouldn't have wanted to let him go herself, but she saw out of the corner of her eye the uneasy looks some of Chef Arnook's advisers were giving her, and so she confided her father to Bato after promising him that she would still be in the hut when he got there.

This promise was as much for him as for herself.

As she wiped away her last tears and watched him follow Chief Arnook into the palace, a questioning voice echoed behind her.

\- You are the daughter of Chief Hakoda.

The white-haired Princess, whose name she had eventually learned, Yue, was looking at her strangely.

Katara shrugged. The people here only saw in her the Abyss Witch, a legend, a whisper, a rumor, not a real person, a daughter or a sister.

\- Yes, and ?

Yue blushed – _so pretty, so delicate_ –, shook her head and entered the palace, followed by her guards, who had tensed when Katara had spoken. She watched her frail figure disappear inside, and the tips of her fingers itched, like before, when she was preparing for a battle. She imagined blood running through Yue's beautiful white hair for a moment, then shivered and brushed the thought aside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was chapter 4 ! Those last chapters are kinda soft, but the fun ones are coming *😏*  
> Also good news are the chapters will be longer, my exams just finished so I will have more time to post in the next weeks, AND I would be insanely happy if you left comments or kudos :)


	5. and if I end up with blood on my hands, well I know that you'll understand, 'cause I fight like a girl

Some days she would sit in the snow in front of the palace, waiting for her father to come out of a meeting with the Northern tribesmen, or just to pass the time, and watch Master Pakku's waterbending students practice. 

Knees tucked under her chin, she would narrowed her eyes, restraining her desire to correct their postures and movements. Master Pakku, the old waterbender who always glared at her, made them repeat them until they collapsed from tiredness in the snow, sore muscles and faces glistening with sweat. 

However, Katara could only compare their bending to hers.

They were learning ancient movements, drawn on crumbling old parchments, dating from the first waterbenders. She had learned alone, standing barefoot on the wooden deck of the small boat, under Tui's benevolent glow, listening to the push and pull of the ocean around her. They thought as they had been taught, with outdated philosophies, where women weren't supposed to fight and movements were carefully framed and learned by heart. She had run on the waves as ice formed beneath her feet, had dived into the water so cold her head was buzzing, and she had never been told she couldn't be a warrior for something as simple as her gender.

Sokka had offered her several times to paint her face for combat, as he would have done with a comrade in arms, and she had refused for the simple reason that she was a waterbender, not a soldier.

One day, as she was observing the practice, as usual, Anjij emerged from the healing hut and ran up to her, with her bouncing step. She tugged on Katara's sleeve, snapping her out of her reverie, and asked her:

\- Can we go ?

Katara nodded and stood up, dusting the snow off her coat.

The sun was setting in a golden glow on the horizon, and the shadows of the students who repeated their movements were lengthening little by little.

She picked up her buckets and crossed the square to the fountains in front of the palace, Anjij hopping behind her. Since Hakoda's arrival, she no longer seemed to be afraid of Katara, and followed her wherever she went.

Katara put her empty buckets on the floor and took off her gloves. By habit, she gracefully flew two whips of water from the fountain, and made them drop without a splash in her buckets.

\- You are a waterbender.

Katara jumped and turned, already into a fighting stance. At her feet, her buckets clashed and toppled over. Princess Yue stood behind her, her eyes wide. Immediately her guards raised their hands to their weapons.

Katara forced herself to relax when she saw them ready to intervene, and took a deep breath.

\- I am. How can I help you, Princess ?

Yue didn't seem to hear her and frowned.

\- And you're a warrior too. You are the daughter of Chief Hakoda and you fight like a master waterbender.

Like a man, she didn't say. But Katara understood the implication.

The reason Yue kept staring at her was because Katara was a mystery to her, a girl of a rank equivalent to her who didn't just use her waterbending to heal. This simple thought made Katara shudder with anger and clench her fists. How dare they ? What right did they have to restrict their daughters, their sisters, their wives, even their princess, in this way ?

\- Is everything all right, Princess?

Master Pakku's concerned voice made Katara's head spin. He had come closer and was looking at her suspiciously. Behind him, his students also had stopped their training to watch them. All around the square, people were looking at them, Yue and her. They thought she was going to attack the Princess, Katara realized.

Yue gave him a carefree smile, as if she and Katara were just friends having a little chat.

\- Everything is fine, Master Pakku. Katara and I were just finishing a conversation.

Anjij slipped behind Katara and picked up one of her buckets. Katara gave her a tight little smile, and the atmosphere seemed to relax a bit. Behind Master Pakku, who had turned around after glaring at Katara, one of the students asked :

\- How did you get those scars ?

It took a second for Katara to realize he was talking to her. He had a curious look on his face, and was starring at the scars on her hands. Katara instantly stroked without thinking the burn marks she had gained on her hands after a violent fight with a Fire Nation admiral. She had discovered through them that she could heal, and although they attracted attention, she was as proud of them as of her mother's necklace or as of everything that made her who she was. They showed that she was a warrior, a real one.

She simply replied :

\- I got them while fighting a firebender.

Master Pakku snorted contemptuously, but said nothing, so she ignored him. A whisper of admiration passed through the students. Another exclaimed:

\- You met a firebender ?! How are they ?

His question was immediately followed by a cry of pain as the boy next to him nudged him. Katara shrugged.

\- They have skin as pale as snow, and boats made entirely of metal. They wear armor without fur, and those who bend fire do not feel the cold.

Katara gave the students a carnivorous smile, lost in her memories.

\- They are surprisingly easy to kill.

\- Enough, exclaimed Master Pakku, glaring at her.

He looked furious, and Katara glared back at him.

Someone in the group of students said, breaking down the whispers that had intensified after her last statement :

\- My mother says that you sold your soul to a dark spirit to have La's powers.

Katara had broke eye contact with Master Pakku and shrugged again.

\- Your mother can believe what she wants. I am not a witch, I am just a waterbender who actually uses her power to fight. I did not steal my bending, I earned it when I was born, like all of you.

Anjij tugged at her sleeve again to get her attention, and Katara gave her a benevolent look. The little girl was holding one of her buckets, and looking up at her with her big blue eyes.

\- Will you teach me how to fight ?

Katara smiled sweetly at her, ready to answer her, when she was interrupted by a furious voice.

\- Enough !

Master Pakku was literally fuming, his gaze fixed on Katara. Another than her would surely have recoil from the anger in his eyes. His fists were clenched, planted on his hips, and a cloud of vapor floated around him.

\- It's out of the question ! You are already dishonoring our values by your simple presence here. I won't let you also corrupt our daughters with your killer ideas, girl. You and I know very well that La would be ashamed to call you one of his children.

Katara lifted her chin, meeting his eyes. Inside, she had to refrain herself from attacking the old man who had dared to speak to her in that tone.

She spat :

\- I will do what I want, and you will not be able to stop me. I am as much a waterbender as you are, _Master_ Pakku, and I expect equal respect.

She managed to put enough venom in her voice to make the title sound like an insult. She took a deep breath and when she exhaled, white vapor escaped from her mouth. She continued in a low voice:

\- I might be a dishonor to La, but I'm still a greater warrior than any waterbender in this city. I've killed more men than you would ever meet : fire, water or nonbenders, they all begged for their lives in the end, and their blood ended up on my hands. So don't make the mistake of talking to me that way again.

She picked up her buckets, grabbed Anjij's hand and turned her back to him. Just before leaving angrily, she saw a spark of fear in his eyes.

Very well. If they couldn't respect her, they could at least fear her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Yue and Katara friendship is water tribe girls solidarity, I say what I say  
> also fuck Pakku, I could write an entire essay on how the fact that he accepted to teach Katara once he knew she was Kanna's grand daughter absolutely did not redeem him and he can go to the spirit hell for all I care if he didn't change his mind on girls waterbending  
> and I love Korra (even if it wasn't as good as atla) but I can't get over what they did to Katara 😭 my girl was a master waterbender, a warrior that took down fire-prodigy Azula, and they made her into what she always refused to be restricted to, a healer that doesn't fight (hum hum unlike Toph)   
> anyway that was chapter 5 ! as usual, if you give me kudos and comments I will maybe feel something again since my heart is frozen (I'm joking. Or am I ?)   
> In the next chapter, a reflexion, a revelation and an encounter <3


	6. I walk the plank, not a tear in my eye, I won't go down your blushing bride, under the water I'll be sharpening my knife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 ! I can't believe we're already here ! This chapter is actually gonna be the first part of a scene (idk how I can call that but well ?) and the rest will be in chapter 7, that I will post in a few days  
> (I'm sorry in advance for the suspense but at the same time cliffhangers are my guilty pleasure sooooo)

In the morning, sometimes, Katara woke up before the sun rose, went outside and walked in the deserted streets of Agna Qel'a. Everything was quieter when everyone was asleep.

She often felt like a voice was calling to her, seeming to come both from inside her chest, and from a place behind the palace. Yet despite her wanderings, she never managed to find the mysterious place that attracted her so much.

She discovered other things, however.

Dressing in silence before going out, she saw her father, asleep in Bato's arms as if they had shared a bed like this hundreds of times. She saw one of the boys who had asked her questions, before her argument with Master Pakku, who was stealthily crossing the city. She followed him to the healing hut, where he met the old lady who taught the little girls, and she had started to teach him how to heal with waterbending. Katara stopped spying on them when, after one of his many failures, the boy started to cry, sobbing though his tears that he didn't want to be a warrior. Finally, she saw Princess Yue who, leaning alone against an ice bridge, was writing a letter with concentration, which she then gave to a waiting messenger falcon, perched on her shoulder. She watched it go with a tender smile, and Katara wondered who was her mysterious pen pal.

As soon as the sun started its course across the sky, the streets started to come alive. The shops were opening, voices echoed through the icy streets and, in the harbor, the fishermen, who had been up for a long time, boarded their boats and loaded their nets, ready to set sail.

Katara then returned to what she now considered her home, or go about her business for the day.

When she came home, her father always gave her a worried look, but didn't say anything. She would not have known how, and could not, explain to him that she continued to dream of Sokka engulfed by the dark water, and of blood flowing from his eyes instead of tears. She had tried before, when they had sat down to talk, shortly after their reunion. She knew that all the people of the Water Tribes, and even beyond, including himself, had heard of Sokka and her, when they had roamed the seas, leaving corpses and rumors behind. But neither of them had mentioned it, and Hakoda had not asked any questions. Katara knew that it was partly because Bato had told him about the condition he had found her in, and not to question her.

She was infinitely grateful to him. She still felt so weak, despite her outburst of anger with Master Pakku. Her clothes hung over her slender limbs, her cheeks were hollow, and she hadn't used her bending since being released from prison except to practice healing. She wouldn't have managed to hold her father's gaze and tell him everything she had done.

She was not ashamed, refused to bow her head and stay quiet - never again, she would be like her grandmother until the end : it was better to die standing than live on her knees - but she knew that the disappointment in his eyes would have been too much. She would rather have secrets left between them than break their bond. She would not lose her father again.

She also knew that he had things he didn't want to confess. But yet, as soon as he had found her, he had fallen to his knees in front of her, and had asked her forgiveness.

Katara had wanted to yell at him, tell him that she should have been the one apologizing for disappearing and losing Sokka, but nothing had came out except more tears.

He had begged her to forgive him for leaving them to go to war, and she had accepted immediately, despite all the pain she had felt, and knew Sokka had felt, when he had left. After that, they had talked a lot about his mother. He had told her stories about her, and she had listened to him, eyes shining and fingers resting on her necklace.

Bato had also answered her questions about her, his gaze lost towards other times, and his voice full of affection. In those moments, she had never wished so much that Sokka was by her side, so that they could talk about the extraordinary being that was their mother, about the hatred they had towards the Fire Nation who had taken her from them, and the guilt she felt. She would have whispered to Sokka her fears, the way she blamed herself for her death, the cold pain that took hold of her when she thought about it. Sokka would have reassured her that it wasn't her fault, that she shouldn't blame herself, and she would have felt better immediately. But he was no longer there.

So instead, when Anjij asked her for stories about the Ocean and the Moon, or the Southern Water Tribe, Katara told her about her mother. And the little girl, fascinated, listened to everything she had to say about her.

That day, Katara had told her about her mother for a while, and then they had went to the center of Agna Qel'a to buy groceries. Gloved hand in gloved hand, they braved the biting cold. Every now and then Katara stopped by a stall to buy something, or Anjij pointed excitedly to something interesting she had just seen.

The people they passed in the streets sometimes gave Katara uncomfortable looks, but she carefully ignored them.

They finally came out onto a wide, but strangely empty street. Anjij was talking animatedly to Katara, while hopping happily, and Katara was listening to her, laughing at her antics. She turned her head towards the stall where she wanted to go, at the end of the street, and froze.

Two boys who must have been Sokka's age were leaning against the wall, looking at her calmly, their arms crossed. Other teenagers emerged from the shadows, their eyes fixed on her too.

The wind whistled gloomily around them, and Katara swallowed.

She didn't like the way they looked at her at all, like they were predators and she was a piece of meat. Anjij stopped, also sensing that something was wrong. One of the boys took a step towards them, and Katara grabbed Anjij by the shoulders to force her to look at her in the eye.

She quickly explained to her :

\- Anjij, listen to me. I want you to go get my dad now. You hear me ? Go find Chief Hakoda, and tell him I'm here, and I need him right now.

Anjij nodded, her gaze serious, and Katara pushed her out of the street.

\- Go !

She ran off, and Katara turned to the boys. She saw a girl, partially hidden behind them, and rolled her shoulders to relax.

\- So many people, just for me ? That's flattering. What can I do for you ?

One of the boys, obviously the leader, took a step towards her, his face contorted with a smirk.

\- Don't play this little game with us, cursed-spirit. You know very well why we are here.

Katara's fingers tightened on the leather satchel she was carrying, but she forced herself to keep a calm face.

\- _Spirit_. I don't like that name. Call me Master. Call me Witch. Call me Death if you want. But spirit ? I am only a waterbender, a mere human.

The boys slowly stepped forward to surround her, like wolves. Katara felt her anger rise as she compared these noble animals to those cowards who had attacked her by surprise, when she was alone. Sokka was a wolf. Sokka was strong, and proud, he never gave up on his prey and protected his pack. These boys, these children taking themselves for men, were only a shadow of what he used to be.

She was not afraid of them. She was afraid, if you could call it fear, of what they were going to try. The adults, even if they hated her, would never have raised a hand on her, for fear of incurring the wrath of Chiefs Hakoda and Arnook. The children were afraid of her, nothing more. But the teenagers... they were reckless, they were oblivious, and they acted without thinking. She knew it, she was one of them.

However, she doubted that Chief Arnook would be very happy if she killed one of his precious soldiers, even if he had attacked her first.

She quickly gauged her opponents. None of them appeared to be a waterbender, or at least to be in fighting stance to bend. The leader, whom she recognized as Hahn, a high-ranking soldier, drew a dagger, its blade glistening in the shadow of his body. Immediately the other boys pulled out more weapons, the bone of which gleamed ominously. Hahn pointed his dagger at her and spat:

\- It's time we teach you a lesson, witch. You killed my uncle, and now you're going to pay.

He added with a sinister smile :

\- I wonder how you would manage to bend without your hands.

\- And her tongue, added another boy, triggering nasty laughs.

Katara's fingers were clenched so hard that her knuckles were white. Nonetheless, she asked, as if her interlocutors hadn't just threatened to cut off her limbs :

\- Oh, I killed your uncle? I'd tell you I'm sorry, but I'm not. If he's dead, it's because he deserved it.

 _Time_ , she realized, _she needed time_. She had to stop the boys from attacking her before her father arrived.

\- You know I don't touch innocent people, don't you? He must have been a traitor who collaborated with the Fire Nation to get me to kill him. Maybe if you tell me his name, I'll remember him. Or not. I've killed so many...

She twisted her gaze into the boy's and asked in a low voice :

\- Have you ever killed a man, Hahn?

He cracked his neck sharply and answered, running his finger over his dagger :

\- No, but I'm ready to try.

She closed her eyes and whispered a quick prayer to Tui and La. She hadn't done this since the last time she had gone to battle.

May they all be cursed, with their childish anger and their weapons-toys. They were unable to leave her alone, so be it. They would suffer the consequences. She could almost feel the blood pounding in their veins.

The world may have started in flames, but it would end in ice. _And she was a specialist of ice._

The air seemed to cool around her.

She opened her eyes again.

\- I can show you how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos, comments and feedback please <3


	7. and all the kids cried out, "please stop, you're scaring me", I can't help this awful energy, god damn right, you should be scared of me, who is in control ?

Everything happened very quickly. Katara threw her leather satchel at Hahn's head to distract him and brushed his legs away. The other boys rushed over to her and she bent down with one hand on the ground, outstretched like a beast ready to pounce.

She dodged some stabs easily and glanced behind her at her attackers.

A boy tried to grab her by the hood of her anorak, and she nudged him hard in the stomach. Her hand slipped near the water skin she was carrying around her waist.

She could feel the water calling her inside of it. She could feel the water all around her, in the canals that meandered a few streets away, in the ice of the houses, in the gray clouds that were gathering to hide the sun in the sky.

But before she had time to open her pouch to unleash her rage, a trickle of water wrapped around her wrists and brought them brutally together behind her back, immobilising her. She let out a cry of rage and tried to control the water, but it suddenly froze to handcuff her completely.

One of her opponents put his hand on her shoulder, and with her hands tied, she did the only thing she could do. She butted him hard in the face, and his nose made a sinister crunch.

He hooted in pain and immediately put his hands to his nose, from which flowed blood.

Katara tried in vain to break the ice that bound her wrists, but she couldn't control the water. Looking up, she saw the girl accompanying those who had attacked her, hidden in the shadows. Her gaze was on her, and beads of sweat beaded her forehead as she concentrated on keeping her harmless.

Katara twisted her wrists until the tips of her fingers met the ice, trying to break free without success. They struggled for a few seconds to control the water.

But the waterbender's mental strength was strong, and Katara was still weak. Finally, she felt a cold blade on her neck.

\- That's it. Enough played.

Hahn stood in front of her with a icy gaze, his dagger resting against her throat. Katara gave up the fight and let go when he forced her to kneel on the ground.

She remembered her grandmother, in the same position as she faced a Fire Nation soldier, and bile rose in her throat.

The boys gathered around Hahn and her, giving her mean looks. The one she had butted in the face had his hands wrapped around his nose, and tried in vain to hold back the streams of blood that escaped from it.

He whined :

\- I think she broke my nose.

Without taking his eyes off Katara, Hahn replied coldly:

\- You just had to be more careful. I warned you she was dangerous.

Katara glared at him, putting all her hatred for him in her gaze. She spat :

\- You think you're strong, I guess ? You think you are men, real warriors, attacking a defenseless adversary like that, ten to one. I would be ashamed to be you. Shame on you.

Hahn pressed his knife a little harder against Katara's neck, nearly cutting the delicate skin.

\- I heard that you and your brother were taking warships on your own, witch. I don't think ten to one is so out of balance.

He seemed to notice something and frowned. With the tip of his dagger, he lowered the fur collar of Katara's anorak, exposing her throat entirely. Then he grabbed her mother's necklace and pulled hard.

Katara immediately shouted :

\- Don't touch that !

Puzzled, Hahn examined the necklace now resting in his hand, running his thumb over the carved stone.

\- She is engaged.

\- No I'm not !

Hahn didn't seem to hear her cries of protest and showed the necklace to the other boys.

\- It's from the Northern Water Tribe. Does anyone recognize that?

One by one, the boys looked at the necklace and shook their heads, equally puzzled. The one with the bloody nose waved his hand in annoyance. He said impatiently:

\- It doesn't matter, Hahn. Hurry up and take care of her.

Another added:

\- Yes, send her back to her brother.

A tall, round-faced boy smirked:

\- A pity he's already dead. We could have had fun with him too. But I guess rabid dogs like him are always the first to suffer Tui and La's wrath. He only got what he deserved.

Katara's blood ran cold. Her head snapped at the boy, regardless of the knife resting on her throat, and her gaze plunged into his.

The whole world seemed to be holding its breath.

Slowly, in a low voice, she asked :

\- What did you just say ?

The boy, all his previous confidence gone, staggered back a bit and looked at his friends uncomfortably.

\- Wh-what?

All her blood seemed to concentrate in her head, and something broke inside Katara.

The cap of her water skin popped under the pressure of the water inside and her ice handcuffs exploded.

Moving faster than the wind, she caught the dagger at her throat and, fingers clenched on the sharp blade, twisted Hahn's arm to push him away from her. Then she rushed towards the boy, so fast that her feet no longer seemed to touch the ground.

There was only one thing left in her mind : anger, cold and white, which masked everything else.

She pushed him violently, and his back creaked ominously as he hit the wall of a house.

Without giving him a second to breathe, she grabbed him by the throat and slammed him again against the wall to keep him from moving. She could feel his maddened pulse under her fingers, and at that moment all she wanted was to really feel his warm blood on her hands. And make him scream in pain, make him suffer so much that he would beg to be killed.

She repeated, articulating despite her voice trembling with anger :

\- What-did-you-just-say?

The boy's eyes were rolling in their sockets, and he was choking, like a panicked rabbit caught in a falcon's talons.

He tried to say :

\- I-I am sorry.

Katara loosened her grip on his neck and hissed between her teeth:

\- Answer me.

On her free hand, the water that had escaped from her vial wrapped around her palm, ignoring the deep cuts from Hahn's dagger - blood slowly dripping from the wounds Katara no longer felt. It froze around her closed hand, and Katara raised a ice fist at the boy.

\- Answer me ! she screamed. 

She punched him hard in the face, then repeated the gesture over and over again, her vision clouded with anger.

Between each punch, she was shouting :

\- Don't. You. Dare. Insult. My. Brother. Again.

She was vaguely aware that the boy's cries of pain had ceased and that her ice fist was spurting blood with each blow, which spattered her face. She hit without stopping, repeatedly, making his facial bones crack grimly with each punch, until an invisible force pulled her back.

The round-faced boy, now unrecognizable, slid slowly against the wall and sagged to the floor without reacting.

She turned, shaking with rage, and saw the waterbender girl, who was controlling the bloodstained ice around her fist, looking terrified.

Coldly, Katara reached out her other hand to her, and the girl's control immediately vanished as she clapped her hands to her chest. Katara slowly tilted her head as she froze the inside of her lungs and the girl fell to the ground, coughing up clouds of cold air.

Someone suddenly pounced on her and she lost her concentration. She seemed to regain hearing as loud, terrified teenage voices echoed around her. Red spots appeared in front of her eyes and she faltered, anger stricken and disoriented. She felt like everything was chaos. She struggled against her assailant, who was trying to knock her down and grab her wrists.

Cold hands circled her neck and squeezed, hard.

She gasped, desperately seeking air, and clawed the air in the direction of the person who was strangling her. She collapsed to the floor, opening and closing her mouth, like a fish out of water, and tried to breathe in, unsuccessfully, unfamiliar hands still clasping around her neck.

She was vaguely aware of the weight of her attacker on her chest as black spots obscured her vision.

She tried to call for help, but no sound passed her lips as the noose tightened inevitably around her neck.

She couldn't breathe anymore. That was it, that was the end, she thought. Tui and La were calling her back to them. She was going to die. She would finally see Sokka again, and her mother, and her grandmother. Tears came to her eyes.

She stopped struggling and slowly let herself drift away.

Suddenly a furious, deep, familiar voice echoed behind the blood pounding in her head.

And miraculously, the weight on her chest and the hands around her neck disappeared.

Her head fell to the side, the cold snow like a blessing against her cheek, as she felt her last strength leaving her.

Vision blurred by the tears that had collected at the corners of her eyelids, she saw her father run out into the street and pounce on the teenagers, his face twisted with anger. Behind him, Bato rushed over to her and fell to his knees beside her, calling her in an anxious voice.

\- Katara, Katara ! Tui and La, answer me, please. Katara !

He ran his hand cautiously over her cheek - and his eyes widened when he saw her neck - then slid his hands under her body.

He lifted her in his arms, whispering soothing words to her, and Katara drifted away, only uttering a slight moan of pain that tore her throat.

She let herself be lulled by the steady rhythm of his footsteps as he carried her away from the streets and those who had wanted to hurt her, while behind them still echoed her father's furious roars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the rest of this scene ! I enjoyed writing this soooo much (maybe a little too much), I hope you liked it too   
> I had some problems with my Internet, but now I'm back !  
> As usual please leave kudos and comments !


	8. cold inside, darker in the day than the dead of night

Katara hadn't known what happened to those who had attacked her afterwards. She hadn't asked. She didn't really know if it was because she didn't dare, or didn't care.

She had been in bed for several days, beset with fever and nightmares.

She woke up screaming each time, making nothing but faint sounds in a trickle of voice, her throat on fire.

However, each time, her father rushed to her bedside to comfort her, and she somehow managed to fall back asleep in his arms, under Tui's comforting light.

Her dreams were still filled with Sokka's drowned corpse, and now also with white, water-swollen hands, which were trying to grab her and tighten around her neck.

At dawn, when she was emerging from her restless sleep, Bato would come and put a hot cup of tea by her bed and urge her to drink it to heal her throat. Sometimes she would see him bustling around by the fire, preparing food or writing letters, and would listen to him talking in a low voice with her father, when they thought she was sleeping.

Through her half-closed lids, she would watched her father hug him from behind and drop kisses on his neck or whisper sweet words in his ear, making them both laugh and exchange secrets in a breath. The scene was so intimate, and so familiar, that it filled Katara with longing. It hurt a little, to see them so happy, but they had deserved it. She couldn't blame her father for finding someone after her mother, especially when this someone was Bato.

As a result of her attack, her father now refused to leave her alone. Katara had tried to tell him that she could defend herself on her own, and that Bato could stay with her, but he hadn't wanted to hear anything.

Hakoda's meetings with Chef Arnook therefore all took place in their little hut on the outskirts of town. The Chief and his advisers all sat on the ground around the low table, and discussed the relationship between the Northern and Southern Water Tribes with Hakoda and the other warriors.

Some of the Southern warriors gave Katara friendly looks when they saw her - they had seen her grow up, and most couldn't realize that she was the legend, the Abyss Witch that they had heard about during the war and after.

The Northerners, on the contrary, gave her uncomfortable looks when she bustled about in the hut. Their gazes rested on her neck, where she made no attempt to hide the necklace of bruises that bloomed there, and their hands involuntarily moved towards their waists and the scabbard of their weapons.

At such times, she didn't hesitate to answer them with sly smiles.

 _Look_ , she wanted to tell them. _Look as much as you want_. _You let your sons think I was weak, you let them hurt me, but I am as strong as before, and your leader obeys all my requests and bow his head in front of my father._

And they quickly looked away, and whispered to each other as they left that she must be spying on them, but there was nothing they could do about it. Absolutely nothing.

She could have taken revenge, hunted down their children and punished them, sacrificed them to the almighty power of Tui and La under the full moon, but that was much more fun, much sweeter.

They were on the lookout, tense, ready to be awakened one night by the cries of their wives and children that she would be merrily slaughtering, gullies of blood running through their icy streets, and Katara loved it.

It was during one of her meetings that she spoke for the first time.

The men hunched over a map, chatting animatedly as Katara boiled water, listening distractedly.

They were talking about the looting and piracy that took place in the small villages of the North, far from Agna Qel'a. After the war, some of the men who had returned had failed to resume their former lives and had become pillars, who plied the coast, robbed Northerners unable to defend themselves, and attacked the supply ships that Chief Arnook was sending. The war had been tough, and many small villages could not recover from the rationing it had entailed. Men were missing, killed or crippled, and they had ended up asking the capital for help.

Chief Arnook had come to seek advice from Hakoda, who was examining the map, eyebrows frowned.

Around them, all the men were almost arguing, trying to find a solution. The hubbub of their voices echoed through the hut, and Katara eagerly tugged at a strand of her hair.

\- You have to bait them.

She noisily placed a tray filled with cups of tea on the table, then stood up as if nothing had happened.

Around her, the voices had fallen silent, and all the men were looking at her as if she had just changed into a spirit.

Chief Arnook was the first to break the silence:

\- Sorry ?

With her hands on her hips, Katara gestured impatiently at the map, looking down on them.

\- I said you have to bait them. The looters. If you want to catch them.

Her suggestion caused a wave of murmurs and unconvinced looks through the men. Her father gave her a warning look.

\- Katara...

But next to him, Bato shifted slightly to make room for her. She dropped to her knees at the table next to him and explained, ignoring her father:

\- Listen, the best way to get something out of a man is to use the carrot and stick technique. Either you have to offer him something that attracts him enough, or you have to scare him enough to force him to do what you want.

She grabbed a moon peach from a bowl on the table and bit into it, as silence fell around her again.

One of the advisers cleared his throat and, clearly expecting him to intervene, gave an uneasy look to Chief Arnook, who was watching Katara thoughtfully.

\- What do you propose ?

Angry exclamations immediately erupted around the table.

\- You can't be serious!

\- A girl, not even an adult!

\- She's a criminal!

An old man with a long white beard punched the table, cutting off the protests.

\- Let the girl speak. She surely knows more than any of you.

Katara nodded respectfully as him and ran her fingers across the map along the Northern Water Tribe coastline.

She saw many warriors lay their eyes on her scorched hands, and immediately look away.

\- Like I said, you have to attract them. You tried to catch them by boat several times, didn't you? But it failed. These men are excellent navigators, they know these seas like no one else. You have to think differently.

Chief Arnook observed the map, where boats were laid to indicate the position of the pillars and the Northern Water Tribe forces. His forehead was wrinkled in concentration, and he smoothed his beard.

\- We could attempt a delivery of provisions by land, by sled. But they knew about the others by boat, they will know about this one...

Katara shrugged and bit into her moon peach again.

\- Then use that. Do like for hunting wolves.

Her reflection received contemptuous looks and she rolled her eyes. Of course. She was just a simple girl, and they were experienced hunters.

Patiently, she explained:

\- The best way to hunt wolves is with sharp pieces of baleen in fat, right? You spool up sharp baleen in frozen chunks of fat, and leave them to the wolves. They are attracted to the scent, and after the pieces are eaten and the fat digested, the baleen unspool and cut the wolves from the inside, into the stomachs or intestines. It's fast and efficient.

She collected surprised expressions, and she refrained from rolling her eyes again.

Hakoda gave her a strange look.

\- Did Sokka teach you that?

She nodded painfully and Bato gently stroked her back.

Chief Arnook intervened after her explanation.

\- Are you suggesting that we poison the delivery supplies and let them steal them?

Bato shook his head.

\- That wouldn't work. We have no way of being sure that they will consume them and not sell them. Innocent people could be hurt for nothing.

Hakoda grabbed a boat figurine, roughly carved out of wood, and twirled it in his hand thoughtfully.

\- We must let them believe that we are desperate enough to go through the lands. They must know that the reason we haven't tried this yet is because the trip is dangerous and not many men are willing to go.

Katara completed his idea with a smile:

\- They will think that the convoy will be even less protected than before and will rush into the lands. And there, you will only have to hide soldiers in the sleds instead of provisions to welcome them nicely. They will be stuck, with no way to escape. It's genius!

Chief Arnook cleared his throat.

\- I don't think it's entirely perfect, there are still loopholes, but this is the best plan that we have come up with for now. This is our best chance.

Thoughtfully, Katara ran her fingers over the map, to a point in the ocean where a black charcoal cross was traced to indicate the position of the looters.

\- Or, you always have another solution.

All eyes turned to her, and she gave them a carnivorous smile.

\- Give me your best waterbenders, a boat, and let me lead the mission. I will find them for you in no time, and I will bring them back to you. Alive or not.

With her thumb, she erased the black cross in a stroke.

The advisers widened their eyes, but it was Hakoda who exclaimed first:

\- No way. I won't let you endanger yourself like that again !

The old man with the white beard mumbled something under his breath, but Katara heard him anyway.

\- I don't think she'll be in danger. Rather, it will be her, the danger.

Obviously, Hakoda heard it too, for he glared at him. Then he turned to Chef Arnook:

\- You cannot...

\- I won't let such an operation take place, he cut him off. It would be too dangerous. We stay with the plan of the convoy across the lands.

Katara leaned over and asked slowly :

\- At least let me come with you, then.

Her tone was low, dangerous. Her long dark hair, only tied back in her usual hair loopies, fell around her face, pale with illness, and her eyes outlined with dark circles. Her hands were still resting on the table, covered with burns, and the collar of her tunic fell enough to reveal the bruises on her neck, and the white scars on her shoulders and chest, which she had gained from her fights.

She added:

\- I can help.

Chief Arnook assessed her for a moment, seeming to be looking for her real intentions, but Katara didn't let anything slip fom behind her mask.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father open his mouth to intervene, but Bato put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Finally, Chief Arnook replied:

\- Okay.

Katara smirked darkly as his advisers exploded in protestations again. By Tui and La, she thought, this was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 ! Thank you sooooooo much for all the kudos and the comments, honestly knowing that people read me is what motivates me  
> Also I don't know of people noticed but all the chapter titles come from songs that you should probably listen to because they're really good ! Today's is from Cold Cold Cold by Cage the Elephant  
> Sometimes I think the ghost of a real writer takes over me and I write really nice sentences, like in this fic. It still amazes me.  
> Anyway please leave kudos and comments, we're getting close to the end !
> 
> Edit : I just realise I have some fun facts about this chapter that I need to share. At the beginning I wanted to have Katara compare baiting the looters to the hunting technique of diping knifes in blood and leave them for the wolves to come lick and cut their tongues and bleed to death. BUT I did some research (yeah I actually do) and turns out there is no actual proofs that Inuit people, or just anybody, used this technique because it's a waste of knifes and all. Instead, they did what Katara talks about, with fat and sharp baleen. The more you know !


	9. there's blood on your lies, the sky's open wide, there is nowhere for you to hide, the hunter's moon is shining, I'm running with the wolves tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's been almost two weeks I haven't post, time flies so fast ! Anyway, this is chapter 9, and the last chapter will be posted this weekend (I can't believe it's already over)   
> It was honestly one of my favourite chapters to write, with the one following, even tho it's short  
> Enjoy you read !

On the day of the mission, she dressed in silence at dawn, shivering a little. She put on her sleeveless tunic adorned with the symbols of La, the one she was wearing on the fateful day Sokka died, and slipped fingerless gloves over her burnt-streaked hands. She braided her long hair and tied it into a bun at the back of her head, leaving only her two hair loops framing her face. Finally, she lit a candle, and knelt in front of it to pray.

As the sun began to rise on the horizon, she emerged from the hut, wrapped in her anorak. Her furry boots sank slightly into the freshly fallen snow with each step as she walked through town on the way out.

She saw Anjij, in a boat on one of the canals with her mother, who gave her a shy wave.

When Katara came to the edge of town, the men taking part in the mission were already ready, loading the sleds or harnessing the polar dogs. Their breaths left clouds of white smoke in the cold early morning air. Some noticed her, and murmurs began to spread, accompanied by glances in his direction.

She spotted Chef Arnook and Princess Yue, who stood side by side with dignity and observed the preparations for departure. The Princess was quietly stroking the coat of a buffalo yak, and her father was talking to a man Katara recognized as the one leading the mission.

Katara pulled her hood back over her head and approached one of the polar dogs. Without paying attention to its master, who gave her an uncomfortable glance, she knelt in the snow and scratched the dog behind the ears, who whined appreciatively and licked her face to thank her.

“Master Katara!”

A happy voice echoed through the icy tundra. She turned and saw Yue, who was running towards her and waving at her, her long white hair flowing behind her.

She raised an eyebrow when the princess joined her.

“You are the only one to call me that.”

Despite her rather crude response, Yue's enthusiasm didn't waver in the slightest.

“Well, you're a complete waterbender, aren't you? What else could I call you ?”

 _Witch_ , Katara would have liked to answer. _Monster_ , _killer_ , like all the others. But she just shrugged.

Yue seemed to remember why she had accosted Katara and rummaged in the pockets of her dress eagerly.

“I have something for you...”

Katara looked down at the object she was holding out and raised an eyebrow. In Yue's hand rested a dagger with a braided hilt and a scabbard adorned with intricate symbols. It was undoubtedly a ceremonial weapon, and must have belonged to a person of high rank.

“It's mine. I heard you had nothing to defend yourself, and I figured you would need it more than I do,” Yue quickly explained with a blush while Katara said nothing.

Katara looked up at her, at her delicate, gorgeous face and her beautiful, intricately combed moon-colored hair. Around them, everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at them. Katara didn't know if Yue was aware of what she was doing. To display herself in her company, as if they were friends, to offer a weapon to HER, the Abyss Witch, while being the daughter of the chief...

After a moment of hesitation, Katara grabbed the dagger and stuffed it into her anorak.

“Thank you.”

Yue's face cracked into a radiant smile and she returned to her father, who was also watching the scene.

In front of him stretched a line of men, all those who were leaving in the convoy, and he was tracing three red marks on their foreheads, symbols that they were taking part in a dangerous mission. He started a movement towards Katara, as if he was going to propose to paint her face too, and she gave him a mocking smile accompanied by a dismissive wave.

“Don't bother, Chief. I don't wear war paint.”

The warriors climbed onto the sleds, ready to go, and the man leading the mission approached Katara, a little uncomfortable, holding a snow leopard caribou by the snatch. He offered her:

“Do you want to...”

She refrained her mocking tone and answered nonchalantly:

“I'd rather get on a sled, if you don't mind.”

He nodded and helped her onto a sled, behind a young warrior who, much to Katara's disappointment, didn't even look terrified when she winked at him. Maybe she was enjoying the climate of discomfort a bit too much, after all... All the warriors seemed nervous and tense around her, much to her amusement.

She gripped the handle bar, as the young warrior in front of her grabbed the reins of the sled and whipped the air while clicking his tongue.

On the other sleds, standing in single file in front of them, the masters of the polar dogs imitated him, and the remaining warriors quickly jumped on their mounts, buffalo yaks and snow leopard-caribous.

Katara pulled up her face mask to protect herself from the cold, as the sled skates began to slide gently across the snow. With her white-fur-trimmed hood and the lower part of her face hidden, she was indistinguishable from the other warriors. Only her piercing blue eyes were still visible, detailing the landscape around her, and rested on Hakoda and Bato watching the convoy depart, as she turned to look at Agna Qel'a one last time.

The sleds quickly picked up speed, racing one after the other across the icy tundra. The polar dogs sprinted, their tongues hanging out, following the tracks of the sleds in front of them and encouraged by their masters. Katara gripped the sled and the young warrior as best she could, the icy wind whipping her face and the snow-white ground getting blurry under her feet.

The sled skates slid across the hardened snow with a muffled, familiar sound, and she dared not imagine what would happen if she fell.

They raced across the frozen tundra, occasionally passing by an icy mountain in the midst of the frozen expanses, or disturbing a herd of seal tigers.

Katara was fascinated. She had grown up in this kind of place, but she had never really ventured into the wild tundra like this, with nothing but ice as far as the eye could see. Suddenly she understood why Sokka had always been so eager to go hunting. The icy wind snapped her clothes and froze her to the bone, scorched the exposed bare skin of her face and blushed her cheeks, but she had never felt so alive. She could sense the water all around her, calling her faintly.

The young warrior driving Katara's sleigh suddenly turned to tap her on the shoulder and shout something that got lost in the wind. He must have seen her gaze of incomprehension, for he reached out to indicate the silhouette of a gigantic glacier looming on the horizon, towards which they were heading straight.

As they approached, Katara recognized the canyon they had to cross to reach the villages constituting their false destination. The narrow passage was surrounded by huge cliffs of ice, and was the perfect place for an ambush.

Behind her mask, Katara smiled.

They entered the canyon without slowing down, the dogs' paws hitting the icy ground at quick regular intervals, mirroring the gallop of Katara's heart.

They sank into the shadows of the cliffs like an arrow in the cold early morning air, and Katara spread her fingers in anticipation. She looked up at the top of the cliffs, partially dazzled by the sun, and the driver of her sleigh turned his head to say something to her.

Then a cry echoed and their sleigh capsized.

One of the skates stumbled against something hard on the ground and the sled, speeding at full speed, rolled over onto its side.

Katara was thrown into the air, and time seemed to slow down. She flew into the air, projected like a stone over the sled which was slipping to the side and the dogs, still harnessed, fallen to the ground.

Just before she fell, she spread her arms and curled into a ball. She rolled to the ground and immediately rose to her feet, landing in a fighting stance.

All around her was chaos. Obviously, what had knocked down their sled was not the only thing intended to stop them, and the other sleds were also overturned on the ground, their occupants trying to escape it or thrown away. A sound of shock echoed on the icy ground and Katara immediately turned, defensive. Dark figures began to fall into the canyon from the top of the cliffs, landing around the warriors. The frightened buffalo yaks reared up, sometimes knocking their riders to the ground, and the dogs were barking like mad, still trapped in their harnesses.

Katara saw at the last moment a spear thrown at her at full force and quickly rolled to the ground.

When she stood up, she saw the dark figures attacking the Northern Water Tribe warriors, and she snapped her neck, grinning darkly. Good. The looters had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title was from Running with the wolves, by Aurora   
> Please leave kudos and comments <3


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